


New York, New York

by WhisperInTheDarkness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Derek is mean, M/M, Peter Hale isn't a mass murdering psychopath, Stiles needs to take better care of himself, Summary is a little misleading?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9318746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperInTheDarkness/pseuds/WhisperInTheDarkness
Summary: Stiles is a reclusive writer who really doesn't like to cook. Derek is his playboy neighbor who likes to cook but really doesn't like Stiles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this is a four part story I've decided to start. It's unbetad so i'm terribly sorry about any grammar and spelling mistakes. A new chapter will be published every week.

There was something particularly sad about standing in front of the frozen food section of your local grocery store. It was the cold, Stiles decided, and the haggard looking soccer moms who contemplated the shelves and shelves of fish fingers with a level of despondency that just couldn't be healthy.

He hated being here but he’d promised his dad he’d stop ordering pizza at every available opportunity. Hurtful words like ‘hypocrisy’ and ‘adult’ had been thrown in there too, so Stiles just had to do it. All the pepperoni and cheese was getting old anyway and plus he could already feel himself getting a little pudgy ‘round the middle. 

He sighed, grabbed a couple of hamburger patties and pushed his cart towards the multi colored cereals. After a short and incredibly awkward conversation with the cashier (apparently she hadn’t quite forgiven Stiles for throwing up on her shoes in tenth grade), he shoved the shopping bags in his jeep and made off into the fading daylight.

Returning to Beacon Hills had been a good idea all things considered, real estate wasn’t nearly as expensive this side of the country and it gave him the peace and quiet he needed for his writing. It did also mean that his father had ample opportunity to come and berate him on his living standards. Apparently having money did not mean one knew all the nuances that came with being a fully fledged adult. Stiles just thought his dad wanted an excuse to drop by at odd hours of the day. It was okay, well mostly okay, he had missed his father while chasing after editors on the streets of New York. Having him around had made the transition easier, it had made everything easier. 

Beacon Hills also had Scott, fresh-faced happily married Scott, who’d chosen to stay in Beacon Hills and marry his childhood sweetheart instead of traveling half-way across the country with Stiles. He would never admit it but at the time he’d been really angry about it. They’d grown up planning their lives together, flashlights dimly illuminating the space beneath their blankets, but part of growing up was realizing that not everything was about you. Scott seemed happy now, in that tooth-rotting small-town-boy sort of way, so Stiles wasn’t really angry anymore.

The Jeep pulled into his parking bay with a worrying creak, and Stiles made his way up the stairs, occasionally stumbling under the weight of his shopping bags. He probably should have just made two trips but he had his laziness down to an art and he so hated ruining good art.

Halfway to his apartment he could feel something dripping down his legs, Stiles sighed for what must have been the hundredth time that day and increased the pace of his shuffling. His father probably had a fortune cookie lesson about this, Stiles thought, but he was definitely not in the mood to hear it.

He made it to his apartment without further incident (though things had gotten a little dicey around stairway number four), plopped the bags down on the ground and patted his pockets to ascertain which one of them had his keys. Left pocket, ding ding we have a winner. Sorry Mr. Pocket we don’t have a car for you but you get to help a reclusive writer open his door and what better prize is there than that?

He could hear someone else coming up the other side of the stairs, and prayed to whatever gods cared enough to be listening that it wasn’t who he thought it was. Because the universe had some sort of unreasonable vendetta against him, Derek Hale sauntered up the stairs with ‘incredibly attractive woman of the week’. Stiles always wondered where he found all these Instagram barbies. No one who lived in Beacon Hills went through the effort of looking that good on a day to day basis, well not anymore, Lydia had left around the same time that Stiles had.

He made himself look away and focus on getting his door open, the faster he did this the more likely he would be able to escape whatever judgmental look Derek had about the milk puddling beneath his feet. He managed to get the door open and half his bags into the apartment before Derek got in judging-range, but alas the second half of the bags and the puddle of milk remained.

He sighed for the hundred and oneth time and went back for his stupid groceries. Derek was standing in front of his own apartment when he got there, because of course he was. He looked over at Stiles, then at the trail of milk leading up to his apartment and frowned, judgmentally of course. Instagram barbie smiled at him like one might at a stumbling newborn calf and nudged an angry looking Derek into his apartment.

Stiles looked over to the stairway and pulled his soppy groceries into his apartment. He didn’t sigh again because he’d reached his daily limit but a couple of minutes into mopping up the milk, he certainly felt like doing it.

 

Stiles had met Derek a week after he’d first moved in, he’d heard about him in passing from the bubble gum scented cheerleaders who were cool enough to be invited over to the Hale’s parties when Derek was home from college. Derek was apparently ‘smoking hot’ and ‘a real college boy’ which meant of course, that Stiles would never get a date to homecoming.

Cora Hale had been in the same year as him but they hadn’t run in the same social circles. He’d seen her perched between Danny and Lydia at lunch sometimes, looking far too broody for someone that popular. He’d even considered asking her out to prom when Lydia had rejected him for the twentieth time, probably for the best he hadn't, apparently she’d broken some guys arm when he’d gotten too handsy on the dance floor. Stiles can neither confirm or deny this of course, he’d been too miserable and ashamed to go.

He’d forgotten about the Hales for the most part while at college, until he’d met with Derek and Cora’s rather eccentric uncle about the possibility of getting his books published. He hadn't known that they were related at the time, and when he found out he’d been incredibly uncomfortable about it. But Peter was too good of a chance to pass by just because Stiles hated being reminded of his home town. Scott’s ‘betrayal’ had still stung at the time and he’d put in so much effort trying to erase that awkward fumbling thing he’d been in high school, that he almost couldn't bare the familiar way Peter’s words rolled of his tongue, the warm smile he had when he spoke of home.

Peter had been the one to convince Stiles to move back, after Stiles had literally not left his New York apartment for two weeks straight. He’d never really liked Peter until that moment, and he’d assumed Peter hadn't liked him. He'd shove Stiles into the shower and had a very long and painful conversation with him about letting himself waste away, which led to Stiles packing up and moving away from all his indie gluten-free friends. Also probably for the best, he’d lost himself for a moment there.

Then he’d met Derek, well ‘met’ was a strong word. He’d walked onto ‘Instagram barbie of the week’ trying to give Derek head in the middle of their hallway, where anyone could just walk by, Stiles would like to mention. They hadn’t quite recovered from the incident, and Stiles hadn’t actually had a proper conversation with the man. Which suited Stiles just fine, Derek Hale was after all, a grade- A douchebag.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually planning on only publishing this next week I swear but I got a little too excited.

After putting away what he could salvage from his groceries, Stiles settled down in front of his laptop for a couple of hours. Peter was somehow being even more of an ass about his deadlines than usual and Stiles really didn’t want to give him anything he could use to guilt-trip him into a PR event again. Somewhere on the internet you could find a video of Stiles being coerced into stuffing ten marshmallows in his mouth by some dimwitted YouTube personality. Peter thought it would help them appeal to a younger market, mostly it just gave Scott the incentive he needed to start making GIFs.

He was about five pages into a particularly gory fight scene when he heard his stomach make a mournful sort of noise. He debated getting up to make something with the food he had acquired earlier, like the good hunter-gatherer he was, but decided against it when he spotted a tray of leftover macaroni and cheese resting on the kitchen counter.

He walked over and regarded it dubiously before reaching into his pocket for his cellphone.

“Scottie! Quick question. How long can you leave macaroni and cheese out for before it's inedible?”

“Stiles please don’t poison yourself. I promised your dad that we wouldn’t have any emergency room incidents this year.” Scott answered like the seasoned sarcastic arsehole he was.

He suspected the reemergence of Scott’s cheekiness was partly due to his return. Stiles couldn’t be prouder.

“Wow rude. And for your information I’m asking for a friend”

“The only other friend you have here is currently lying next to me, and Allison’s lactose intolerant”

Stiles chuckled. Did Scott seriously expect him to not say anything to that?

“I’m flattered but you really shouldn’t answer your phone in the middle of sex dude, it’s super rude”

He let himself enjoy the sounds of Scott sputtering on the other end of the line for a few moments before dumping the possibly radioactive macaroni. Yeah food poisoning wasn’t really a major priority right now.

Scott seemed to be having a conversation with a sleepy Allison now, upon finding out that it was Stiles on the phone she must have grabbed it out of Scott’s hand because he was suddenly cut off.

“Ally!”

“Hey Stiles. What did you say to Scott? He’s pouting like a two year-old.” Allison asked, sounding far more awake.

She always made an effort with him. He thought it was the residual guilt she felt about stealing Scott away from him all those years ago. This was as unnecessary as it was adorable.

“Nothing that you can prove in a court of law. What’s up? How’s the decorating going?”

“Great. I’ve decided to go with gender neutral colors because Scott keeps insisting that finding out the baby’s gender will ruin the surprise so.”

Allison had been preggers for about 5 months now, it was kind of hilarious watching Scott freak out about the tiniest little thing. Stiles kept sending him links on how air pressure could affect an infant’s brain development or how allergens could pass through breast milk.

“Good, good. That’s the sort of pragmatism one likes to see in all new parents. You probably should go with gender neutral colors anyway. You don’t want to start imposing gender roles on them too soon.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you cluttering up Scott’s email with these articles.” Allison said mock seriously, but Stiles could hear the smile in her voice.

“What? It’s a real thing. I read a Huffington Post article about it yesterday.”

“Sure Stiles, we’ll take it under advisement. Scott I swear to god if you take this phone out of my hand I’ll kick you. Stiles, Scott wants to know if you’re going to the barbeque on Sunday.”

“Oh- uh…”

Stiles heard a thud and the sound of Scott swearing colorfully in the background.

“I know you’re busy with your book, but it would be good to get out and meet new people. Sarah said she was going. You know the one with the pretty blond hair, she works at Vons”

“Allison, I ask because I can’t believe my ears right now. Are you seriously talking about the girl I threw up on in tenth grade who keeps glaring at me every time I step into the store? W-ow. Umm I’ll think about it? Peter’s really on my case about getting this draft in, so I don’t know how much time I’ll have. Tell Scott to stop picking up during special Ally time. Okay bye!”

“Stiles. Wait- “

He put down the phone before he could hear anything else, feeling incredibly guilty about it. He kind of hated it when they tried to get him out of his apartment. Stiles was a lot better than he’d been a year ago, like a lot better. They just didn’t realize it because they hadn’t seen him back in New York.

He stood in his kitchen for a while, feeling like shit for making his friends worry about him. Then he started picking up the gross unwashed dishes strewn around over the various surfaces of his home. Cleaning always made him feel better about himself, like he wasn’t actually being useless or something.

He fell into bed at around 2 am, sheets smelling like lavender, his quiet little apartment smelling like liquid disinfectant.

 

Stiles was actually a pretty tolerant guy. People usually didn’t believe him when he said this because he was prone to lashing out when someone pissed him off. But the thing is, it took a lot to make Stiles that angry. He once let a friend crash at his place even after he’d almost taken Stiles’ eye out because of a really bad acid-trip. Stiles had done some pretty unadvisable things in his early twenties, but he still had a pretty strict no-drugs policy. So he was an accommodating guy okay? Like really really accommodating.

But being woken up two hours after he’d fallen asleep by the sound of someone angrily banging on his front door? Not okay. Like you-wouldn’t-like-to-see-me-when-I’m-angry levels of not okay. He considered ignoring it for a while but it didn’t seem to be going away.

He sighed, because it was technically a new day and his quota was far from filled and marched off in the direction of his front door. Strangely, he could hear two people arguing outside…then a banging noise. This was a pretty quiet apartment block. His neighbors were all usually very chill. He opened the door, ready to start shouting at whoever was on the other side but he stopped when he saw who it was.

“Instagram Barbie?” Stiles asked incredulously because he was still half asleep and frankly too moody to care about being polite right now.

And it was Instagram Barbie, Stiles was sure, though perhaps a slightly more debauched version of her. Her long brown hair was in a bit of a state, but her makeup was still perfect, amazingly.

She looked at Stiles for a few uncomfortable moments before pushing past him and walking into his apartment.

“I’m glad you’re awake.” She said, studying his apartment with an air of annoyance.

“What the fuck- wait is that a brick in your hand? Why do you have a brick in your hand?”

Stiles questioned evenly, trying not to say anything that might provoke her to violence. He was man enough to admit that he was pretty freaked out right now. Did she come in here to kill him? Why? Murder wouldn’t help you get more social media cred, no matter what the trolls on Reddit said.

“Look I don’t know what you’re doing here but I’m like 5 seconds away from calling the cops so- “

She pretty much ignored Stiles and walked over to a window on the far side of the room. His eyes widened in the split second it took figure out what she was about to do.

“Don’t!”

Stiles stayed long enough to see the glass shatter onto his carpets and for the crazy woman in his living room to start giggling uncontrollably.

“Tell Derek that if he doesn’t want me to fuck up your apartment he better come here and talk to me!” She shouted at Stiles’ retreating back.

What the fuck?

What the actual fuck?

Derek’s door was predictably closed when he got there, but it sure as hell wouldn’t stay that way for very long. He banged on the door in a manner that was eerily reminiscent to the way Instagram Barbie had on his, though he wasn’t going to dwell on that for the sake of what was left of his sanity.

Suddenly he thought about his laptop, which was resting on his couch, which had about four months’ worth of work on there, which was also fully accessible to the women currently smashing up Stiles’ apartment.

The door banged open to reveal a very shirtless and very angry looking Derek Hale. Stiles face heated because he was easily distracted but the sound of something else smashing to bits, did a great job of bringing him back to reality, a stellar job.

“You’re not Jennifer.” Derek said because he had about one working brain cell.

“No, No I’m not and you have about 2 seconds to get your crazy girlfriend out of my apartment before I call the police. Frankly, I’m amazed I haven’t already.”

They both jumped at the sound of something else breaking next door. He had his fucking laptop with all of his work in there.

“Now!” Stiles insisted.

Derek glared at him, seemingly annoyed at being commanded to do something. Then he took what better have been a calming breath and strode off into the direction of Stiles’ apartment. Stiles followed after him, hopelessly trying to push away the beginnings of a panic attack. He’d do it later, not now. Later, when he was sure that his stuff would be okay.

He didn’t actually follow Derek into his apartment because he didn’t feel like getting stabbed. His dad wouldn’t be impressed. He just listened to the sounds of Derek trying to convince Jennifer to stop destroying his stuff. It was all well and good for Derek to get himself involved with these women but Stiles saw no reason why he needed to drag him into it. What did Derek do? Bang her sister?

At least the sounds of smashing valuables had decreased somewhat, Stiles thought miserably. He just prayed that his laptop wasn’t among the broken things. He didn’t know what he would do if he had to start over. Peter would kill him.

Derek walked out about a second later, looking infinitely more annoyed than he had a few minutes ago.

“Call the police.”

“What?”

“I said call the police. She’s not listening to reason.”

“No I heard what you said. I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that she’s still in there breaking my stuff!”

And Stiles voice was doing that high-pitched thing it did when he was particularly furious. The only thing stopping Stiles from punching this dude in the face was the fact that he was probably the only one who could de-escalate the situation right now.

“Calm down.”

“Calm down?“

“She’s not breaking stuff anymore. She locked herself in your room. Just call the police”

“My phone is in my room! You call the police!”

People were starting to open their doors to see what the commotion was about. Stiles lowered his voice, and smiled nervously at his annoyed neighbors.

Derek glared at Stiles like this whole situation was somehow his fault, and walked off to presumably, call the police. Stiles walked back into his apartment, the prospect of facing the people in the hallway was a lot less appealing than waiting for the police with a very angry squatter. Plus, he had to check if his laptop was okay. He didn’t care how much of a mess of an evening this had been, as long as his laptop was okay.

He couldn’t hear anything from his bedroom thankfully but that didn’t matter because his place was a mess. The window on the far side of the living room was still shattered of course. The rest of the shattering noises must have come from the jagged bits of Stiles’ glasses laying on the kitchen floor. He felt physically sick.

Material things, were just that, material. Stiles had never cared much about the stuff he owned. Well he hadn’t thought he cared-

His laptop. Where was his laptop?

Stiles looked around frantically

It wasn’t on the couch anymore. It wasn’t on the couch anymore. Oh god.

What had she done with-

Stiles looked over to the window again, heart sinking to the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no, oh god no.” Stiles stammered starting in the direction of the broken window. He felt someone grip his shoulder and turned to look up at Derek’s concerned face.

“What are you doing? You’ll cut your feet!”

“My laptop, She- “

Derek looked down at Stiles and then over at the window. He gently nudged Stiles towards his couch and walked over to it. He was actually wearing shoes. He was actually fully dressed now, why hadn’t Stiles noticed.

Derek peered over the edge of the window and sighed visibly.

“Did she?”

“I’ll get you a new one. I’ll replace everything she broke-”

Stiles could barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. Peter was going to be so mad. Stiles had promised to get everything done by the end of the week. He’d promised. Some of the stuff had been good, really good. Stiles had worked so hard.

“Hey look at me. Hey. What’s your name?”

“Stiles.” He said dejectedly, feeling vaguely annoyed that Derek didn’t know his name.

But he wasn’t really angry anymore, he just wanted to go to bed now. He just wanted to sleep. He’d deal with this in the morning. He’d call Peter and they’d work something out.

“It’s just a laptop Stiles. It can be replaced.” Derek said softly from somewhere in front of him.

“Peter’s going to kill me.”

“What? Stiles?”

“I’m a writer.” Stiles muttered, shocked at how paper thin his voice sounded. It was just some writing. He could do it again. Peter would understand. He’d understand.

Stiles looked up, finally registering that Derek was crouching in front of him.

“I’m a writer.” Stiles repeated.

Derek’s eyes widened in comprehension. He looked- well he looked exceptionally guilty.

Good, Stiles thought in an abstract sort of way and collapsed against the back of his couch.

He pretty much ignored everything that happened from there. Some guys that Stiles knew from the sheriff’s department arrived and finally managed to coax Jennifer out of his room. He thought his dad showed up to talk to a shamefaced Derek at some point, but he couldn’t be sure.

Stiles didn’t particularly care, as soon as he could. He got up and walked into his bedroom. He was fairly certain that everyone had left by the time he started to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about how late this is. University, moving and job hunting has been a bit crazy. Also you've probably noticed this is going to be a tad longer than you first thought (3 extra chapters to be exact).Trust me, It's needed.

Stiles could hear a faint banging from the direction of his door. He ignored it. Scott, Allison and his father had been trying to get him out of his bed for the past week and he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with whatever inspirational anecdotes they’d cooked up for him.

When Stiles was ten his mother sat him down for the longest lecture he’d ever received in his life. Stiles had done something stupid, hurt some ugly gap-toothed kid who’d been bullying him since they were kindergarten. He hadn’t meant for it to happen but turns out when you push someone off the top of a jungle gym, their arms break. He would never ever forget the unnatural bloody bend of Kyle McKnight’s limbs, the receding siren and the cold disappointment in his mother’s eyes as one of his teachers angrily explained what had happened.

They’d kicked Stiles out of the school the next day and his mother hadn’t quite smiled as much after that. He tried his best to never disappoint her again, but of course that wasn’t possible. He was Stiles. So, he just made sure he was never around when she wanted to lecture him about something. He still did it now, the avoiding thing, even after she was long buried under the earth.

Peter had probably been trying to get a hold of him. He’d turned his phone off after it hadn’t stop ringing the first day, so he couldn’t be sure. It’s not like he knew what he was going to tell Peter anyway, he’d be pissed no matter what. Might even cancel their contract, Stiles didn’t know if he could do that but Peter would certainly try if he thought Stiles was becoming more trouble than he was worth. The banging grew louder and Stiles buried himself further beneath his blankets. They’d go away eventually, he just had to ignore them for long enough, it was a daily routine.

After about an hour of banging, Stiles started having doubts. If it was his father he didn’t think he could open the door but it may have been Scott. Scott couldn’t really afford to be hanging around outside Stiles’ apartment, he had a house to pay off and a child on the way. Stiles shouldn’t be making him worry like this.

Maybe he should just get up, pretend like he was fine and promise to stop ignoring them. More likely than not they’d be more amenable to leaving him alone. He looked around his room for a bit, contemplated the dust particles floating through the glowing gaps between the curtains and got up. His apartment was still a mess of course, the window hadn’t even been repaired yet. 

He avoided the space onto which the glass had shattered and made his way over to the origin of the noise, already schooling his expression into something less tragic.

He did a little breathing exercise his last therapist had taught him then opened the door. After staring at the person on the other side for a about five seconds, he angrily banged it back closed again.

“Ow! Jesus. Seriously?”

“Get your foot out of my doorway!”

Why had Derek come back? What the hell did he want?

“Look, ugh-stop that. Just hear me out for a minute and I promise to leave you alone.”

Stiles' heart was banging angrily in his chest. He was feeling more anxious than he had in awhile, the whole week he’d just felt empty but now he could feel that that writhing ball of unease in the center of his stomach.

“Go away!”

“It’s about your book! Just let me in okay? I’ll leave as soon as I give it to you.”

But his book was gone.

It was gone. Stiles had seen it broken into pieces on the concrete outside.

“You better not be fucking with me.” Stiles warned, easing the door open to look at Derek’s face. 

He was scowling, of course he was. His hands were twitching on his sides probably itching to rub what was with any luck, a broken foot. 

He glared a Stiles for a while, eyes taking in his week-old stubble, ratty sweatpants and NYU hoodie. Stiles knew he looked like a mess. He just didn’t have it in him to care all that much. Scott wouldn’t have minded, he just would have been worried. Stiles didn’t care what Derek felt.

“Here.” Derek said and pushed a small plastic object into his hand. 

Stiles looked down at the memory stick in confusion.

“My cousin works in IT.” He continued as if that was enough of an explanation. When Stiles didn’t say anything, he sighed and angrily showed his hands into the pockets of his too-tight jeans.

“It’s not all of it, it’s what we got from your hard drive. Your movies and gaming crap is all gone but we managed to save most of the stuff in the documents folder. That’s where your book was right?”  


Stiles nodded mutely. Derek seemed to sag in relief.

“I don’t have a laptop so I can’t check if any of it is actually on here.” Stiles said refusing to believe that his problems had suddenly been solved.

“Wait here. I’ll be back in a second.”

Stiles watched Derek’s retreating back, something like hope desperately trying to claw its way out from under a week’s worth of despair. He wanted to push it away, he really wanted to but it was the first time he’d felt anything remotely positive in a while. He wanted to cling to it.

When Derek returned with his laptop, they sat on Stiles' couch and waited while it started up. Stiles ignored the way Derek looked at his apartment in disgust. It was mostly just empty coffee cups, Stiles thought crossly, it’s not like he’d been eating enough for his dishes to begin piling up.

His book was all there, all of it. He wouldn’t have to re-write anything.

He stared at the laptop in disbelief and then looked up at Derek’s strangely pained expression.

“It’s all here- but how’d you get it back?”

“I told you, my cousin.”

Was this guy able to string together more than one sentence at a time? Did he just grunt at women until they dropped their panties for him?

“Yeah I got that part. I mean how’d he manage to get anything off my hard drive? We live on the seventh-floor man, it would have been smushed.”

“I don’t know anything about computers.” Derek grumbled

Stiles sighed, certain that he wouldn’t be getting anything more out of Derek. He leaned back and stared at the ugly vase Allison had gotten him when he first moved in, feeling oddly weightless.

“I thought you’d be happier about this.”

“No, I am. I think I’m just in shock you know? I didn’t think I’d actually get anything back.”

He turned to watch Derek fidget uncomfortably on his couch. It occurred to him that he’d never actually seen him up close before. He’d been a bit of an urban legend in Stiles’ youth, only solidifying into a real-life concept when Peter had casually mentioned that Stiles would be moving into the apartment next to his nephew. He’d never like the idea of him, as the mysterious and attractive college boy or the erratic playboy neighbor who slept with women like it was going out of fashion and somehow still wore leather jackets unironically.

Derek Hale sauntered through life with the confidence of someone who understood that they were easily loved, Stiles stumbled through it, not quite believing that he could be.

He liked him a little better now. Not by much, but he did. He was still annoyed about how attractive Derek was and at the fact that he hadn’t bothered with an apology in the fifteen minutes he’d been here but Stiles figured he could forgive him.

“You should really clean, it smells like something died in here.”

Stiles found himself giggling uncontrollably.

“Dude are you really telling me to clean my apartment after your girlfriend literally almost cost me months and months of work and a very lucrative contract with my publisher? You suck at apologies.”

“I’m not apologizing.”

“Yeah I know and it’s frankly amazing how socially stunted you are. I literally don’t leave my apartment for sometimes days at a time and I still manage to appear like I haven’t been replaced by a pod person.”

“What?”

“Du-ude, Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Jack Finney? A race of creepy alien spores try to take over the planet? I can so believe you don’t know what I’m talking about. The film’s not nearly as good as the book by the way.”

“You don’t leave your apartment for- “

“And just while we’re on the subject you really have to start choosing your girlfriends better. I mean they’re insanely hot, seriously it makes me bemoan my lack of a gym routine but like there’s only so many apartments they can smash up before you run out of money for lawyers. People could sue! I could sue. Wait I could sue.”

“Please don’t.” Derek said looking pained.

Stiles chuckled at his expression.

“Don’t worry about it man. I don’t like courtrooms much. They tried to lock me away for public indecency the last time I was in one.”

“I can so believe you've been arrested for public indecency.” Derek deadpanned.

Stiles grinned at him.

“ Cheeky. Wellll as fun as this has been I have some friends and a parental figure to stop ignoring not to mention a probably very angry editor. So please make your way out of my apartment.”

Derek sighed and dusted himself off like he was covered in dust. Dick. 

Stiles took out the memory stick, barely resisting the urge to clutch it against his chest and handed Derek his laptop.

“Peter’s not angry. He just wants you to call him.”

He figured Peter might have tried to contact Derek when he couldn’t get a hold of him. Derek’s presumed ignorance of Stiles’ existence probably wouldn’t have influenced the decision. Peter had a very annoying and very liberal understanding of personal boundaries.

For the first-time Stiles wondered whether Peter recommending this apartment had been part of some elaborate plan to keep him line. Well he’d chosen a pretty shitty babysitter if that was the case.

“I still have to pay you for what Jennifer broke. I’ll be back tomorrow. Oh, and back-up your fucking book”

Derek said and walked out before Stiles could even start swearing at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about how late this is. My disability was acting up last year but I have things under control now :)

His father and Scott weren’t very happy with him but they would get over it in time, probably. Peter on the other hand- Peter had a rather colorful and frightening arsenal of words he would use to describe how he could kill Stiles if he tried this shit again. Stiles had hung up as soon he started talking about the body parts south of his belt. 

Derek had lied, Peter was angry but then again he was still alive so maybe his reassurances had some merit.

The deadline had been postponed by a few days or so, so that was something. He’d have to forgo sleep for a while but he could make it. The apartment was still a mess, he honestly didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. But Derek was coming over and Stiles’s really couldn’t deal with that judgmental scowl again. He groaned, clumsily flung himself off his sheets and headed towards the direction of the cleaning supplies.

When he was finished, the apartment looked less like a drug den and more like a very sad squatter's den. It was something. He nodded, satisfied with his work and walked over to make himself a cup of coffee. There was only one mug left, his ‘Don’t Panic’ one that Scott had gotten for him for his 21st birthday. Small mercies, Stiles fucking loved that mug.

Just as he was about to flick the switch to set their water to boil, Stiles heard a knock on the door. Derek. It was okay, he was just here to hand Stiles money. There was no reason for him to stay longer than he had to. The knock came again, louder and more impatient this time.

Stiles rolled his eyes and walked over to open the door.

“ Did I ever tell you how I just LOVE how you knock on my door like a debt collector?”

Derek grunted and stared at Stiles disdainfully. He was wearing his stupid leather jacket again because of course he was.

“Well I’m telling you now so- Hey! What are you doing?”

Derek looked over at him from the inside of his apartment and frowned, and raised his eyebrows as if to say- “the fuck are you talking about less-attractive human? My muscles and raw sex appeal prohibit me from understanding sentences with too many words in them”

“ You can’t just barge in here whenever you feel like it!”

Stiles was starting to think that Derek really couldn’t give a shit about his opinions.

“ Let’s go.” he grunted.

“Let’s go? Let’s go where? You DO understand that you have to use words for people to understand you? Please, it’s important to me that you understand that.”

“ Jesus what- to get the stuff to fix your apartment obviously-Home Depot.”

“You want to go to Home Depot with me? Why don’t you just give me the money and I’ll do it myself?”

“ Because you’d probably spend it on video games and live like this for the rest of your life.”

“ Wow rude. Also, true. Aww Derek I didn’t know you cared.”

Derek rolled his eyes. What the fuck? That was his thing.

“ Shut the fuck up and let’s go.”

“ Hey you can’t talk to- hands off the merchandise! Jesus you’re handy, buy me dinner first.”

“Sure, you look like a cheap date.”

“Why are you being so salty today? Derek! Fine, just let me grab my keys you creep.”

 

**

“Derek look! This one has an adjustable handle!”

“ What are you? Like twelve? We don’t need that. Put it down!”

Home Depot was a lot of fun apparently, especially when Derek was here to annoy. People kept giving them odd looks but surprisingly Stiles didn’t mind all that much. Stiles didn’t realise just how much STUFF there was in places like this. They really had everything.

“ Stiles so help me God.”

“ Aww honey can’t we get these they’d look so good in the kitchen.”

It was kind of funny how angry Derek got at times like this. A little vein popped out on the side of his head whenever Stiles managed to get him angry enough. Stiles was actually interested to see what he would do. Most people just huffed and stalked away when Stiles got like this.

“ Newlyweds? A fight in home depot is one of the big milestones of a stable marriage.” A warm, amused voice said from behind him.

He turned to see a sharply dressed black man, next to a dude that looked like he’d just stepped out of an issue of ‘Hipster’s Weekly’. Stiles smiled nervously, and surprised himself by looking to Derek for reassurance. He wasn’t too great with strangers, when he got to know people he burst out of his shell and you couldn’t get him to stop talking.But with strangers? Nope.

“Uh- we’re not” Derek began.

“ It’s so nice to see another gay couple here in Beacon Hills. It gets a bit too hetrosexual around here sometimes. Doesn’t it?” Mr sharpsuit said.

“ You’re being rude Mitch.” said the man beside him. His was asian-american and had a rather impressive set of tattoos on his arms.

“No I’m not. I’m not being rude am I?” He asked, sharply turning his head to face them.

“Uh no- no we’re just not used to meeting other gay couples.” Stiles stammered back. Really? What was he doing? He didn’t have to turn around to know that Derek was glaring daggers into his back right now.

“Oh honey aren’t you precious, we won’t bite. I mean not unless you ask really nicely.”

“ Mitch.”

“ Yes, yes keep your heels on. Well it was nice to meet you-”

“ Stiles! And this is Derek he doesn’t smile much.”

“ I can see that. Okay well then come along Jake, we have a nursery to decorate. Ciao!”

Jake smiled apologetically at them and walked after his partner. 

Stiles felt a smack on the back of his head.

“Ow!”

“ Why did you tell them we were dating?!”

“ I don’t know man he just seemed so excited to meet another gay couple. I didn’t want to disappoint them.”

“ So you lied?”

“ Yes I lied. Jesus, what’s the problem? It’s no big deal.”

Derek looked at him disapprovingly and stalked off in the direction of the registers. Well okay then.

 

After just the most awkward purchase in the history of ever, Stiles and Derek walked back to Derek’s Camaro.

“ Dude that’s pretty fucked up.” Stiles said when they were inside.

“ What?”

“ That you’d have a problem with being thought of as gay. That’s fucked up. I’m bisexual so if you have a problem with that you can just say so now.”

“ Stiles, I’m not a homophobe.”

“ Weird way of showing it.”

“ I like men too I just don’t like it when-”

“ Wait! Wait hold up. You like men? Since when? I’ve only seen really seen women come in and out of your apartment.”

“Yes and that means I don’t like men?”

“ No! No I just- you’re right. Sorry.”

“ It’s fine.”

They sat there in silence for a few uncomfortable moments.

“ So… Scott invited me to this barbeque thing on Sunday. Wanna go with me?”

Derek turned to him, shocked, to say the least.

“ Are you asking me out right now? Seriously?”

“...yes?”

Then the most surprising thing happened. Derek burst out laughing. Stiles couldn’t help staring, the sight was just so foreign, it seemed wrong somehow. Like he wasn’t supposed to be seeing this.

“ You’re ridiculous.”

“ That doesn’t sound like a no.” Stiles pressed, heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Derek smirked at him and did that annoying eyebrow thing he did that was so annoying and so so hot. God damnit. 

“ Ask me again tomorrow.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a whole lot of videos on how to install a window on YouTube apparently.

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m putting glazing compound on the pane to keep the glass in place.”

“Oh so that’s the weird white stuff that you were scraping out of there earlier.”

“Yes Stiles, that’s the ‘weird white stuff’ I was scraping out of here earlier.”

“You should have just told me when I asked the first time. This silent brooding thing you have going now is super inconvenient, not to mention time-consuming. Oh what are-”

“Stiles!”

“Jesus okay. I’ll go write a book or something.”

They’d returned from their surprise shopping spree about an hour ago, after hitting up Home Depot, IKEA, an Apple Store and the brand new Lego Store that had opened up in Beacon Hills just a week before. The last trip hadn’t exactly been necessary but Stiles had managed to annoy Derek into taking him. That Lego Death Star was going to look so sick on his new TV stand.

Stiles settled on the couch with his Macbook and watched Derek work while it started up. He didn’t know what he had been expecting but he was surprised by how handy the man was. Stiles had never bothered to learn anything to do with home improvement ,so he found himself quite impressed with how well Derek knew how to do all of this.

He was quite impressed with the rest of him as well.

“Stop staring at my ass.”

God Stiles could practically hear the smirk. 

“I wasn’t- how did you know I was looking at you anyway?”

“Glass is pretty reflective if you can believe it.”

Derek intoned sarcastically, turning to give Stiles a positively cheeky grin.

“Oh har har.”

Stiles answered ignoring the heat in his cheeks and pretending to type something. He didn’t even have Microsoft Word open, heck he didn’t even have it installed yet. He decided to ignore Derek for the time being and begin setting up his new laptop. Peter was very close to having him assassinated, he had to get these last few chapters done, ridiculously attractive neighbour moving around his apartment or not.

And so it went. Stiles typing away about monsters and secret criminal societies and Derek quietly repairing his apartment in the background. It was kind of nice actually. Derek had a sort of calming presence to him, like you could depend on him if anything went wrong. Stiles found himself sinking into the plush cushions of his couch, lulled into quiet sort of peace by the clacking of the keys on his keyboard and Derek’s self-assured stride through his apartment.  
He couldn’t say how long he’d been working for but when he looked up again the sun was setting, and his apartment was bathed in an orange-red hue.

The apartment looked- well it looked better than it ever had. Stiles had let Derek choose all the new furniture and kitchenware and was glad that he had. It looked less like a tired twenty-something had hastily and carelessly decorated it, everything looked considered and-adult. He’d even cleaned, Stiles noticed, warmth spreading through him in a lazy wave.

He looked around for Derek, disappointed until his eyes fell upon his sleeping form on the couch next to him. God his eyelashes were so long and thick. Stiles couldn’t help but stare. He’d always thought Derek was beautiful but it felt like he was noticing it for the first time again. Like he was 16, and just realizing that he could love just about anybody, maybe even someone like Derek Hale.

Stiles ached to touch but he knew he was allowed. So instead he just watched as the man slept ,until his eyes eventually fluttered open.

“Mhmm Stiles, what time is it?”

“Around 9. Have a nice nap?” Stiles asked grinning widely.

“Yes. Shit, I’ve got to get going. I promised Laura I would call tonight. She’s going to kill me if I don’t”

“Yeah okay. Wanna have some coffee or something before you go?”

“Nah I’m good.” Derek muttered, voice rough with sleep. He pushed himself up and rubbed at his eyes and Stiles felt something ache in his chest. He was going to say or do something stupid, he could just tell. There was no stopping it.

“....hey Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for all this. You did a lot more than you had to, more than anyone else would have.”

Derek considered him, expression something Stiles couldn’t quite decipher. His gaze felt heavy, it made Stiles want to run and hide in his bedroom.

“Stiles are you okay? I mean like, really okay?” Derek questioned, concern obvious in his voice.

Stiles felt completely thrown by the question. Usually people didn’t notice, usually he could make them think that this was just the way that he always was.

“You know how it is.” Stiles answered lamley.

“I actually do. It’s okay not to feel happy Stiles. You don’t have to try so hard to pretend to be. It’s okay not to have everything together. You know that right?”

Stiles could feel the familiar sting of unshed tears and the shame that usually accompanied them.

“Yeah. Come on let me show you out. It’s been a long day and I think I’d better get to bed.”

Derek considered him for a moment longer, then got up to walk towards the door. Stiles followed his lead, unspoken words stuck in his throat, hands painfully clenched at his sides. 

They stopped at the opening of the door. Looking at each other awkwardly from either side.

“See you tomorrow?” Stiles said smiling weakly. Derek smiled in return.

“I still haven’t agreed to go to that barbecue with you. Which is the most ridiculous way anyone has ever asked me out on a date by the way”

“That can’t be true.”

“It’s not. Goodnight Stiles.”

“Night Derek.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me!

Derek’s words circled around his head for hours after he’d left

He knew that his behavior wasn’t normal. People his age could feed themselves, keep their apartments clean. People his age could get out of fucking bed every morning. There were days where Stiles never left his room, or the comfort of his sheets. Days where he felt like there was a tonne of bricks on his chest, slowly crushing his ribs into dust. Days where nothing made sense, where he felt so alone he could barely stand it. These days passed, but they were never pleasant. He’d seen a couple of therapists but none that he particularly liked, or trusted. But maybe it was time to revisit that again, Scott and Allison had been bugging him about it for months but he hated the ugly feeling he got whenever they brought it up.He felt ashamed, he felt weak. Like he couldn’t do anything.So he carefully navigated out of every conversation they ever tried to start with him about it. 

But Derek hadn’t made him feel that way. He’d said it was okay and Stiles really wanted to believe him.

Stiles was finishing up the last of what he had to send to Peter when he heard the knock on the door. He absentmindedly paused the Studio Ghibli soundtrack he was listening to and got up to answer it.

“Couldn’t stay away huh?” Stiles said when he saw who it was, doing his best to sound as obnoxious and smug as possible. Derek did not look amused, he looked a bit...panicked actually. 

“ Hide me.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow in question and waited to see if Derek was going to explain. 

“Who is it? Cybermen? Rebel scum?” Stiles asked seriously. He even made a show of looking past Derek and into the empty hallway.

“ You know you just likened yourself to the Galactic Empire right?”

“ Look at you getting my references! And I’ve always been more of Sith guy you know? Adam Driver can get it.”

“Please stop talking.” Derek pleaded, pushing his way into Stiles’ apartment.

Stiles closed the door behind him and walked to his couch. He hoped whatever Derek was hiding from didn’t involve any more crazy girlfriends. Stiles would have to sue on principle. He watched Derek as he got out his phone and started typing something furiously. The presumably horrifying reply came only a second or two later, if Derek’s expression was anything to go by.

Stiles patted the seat next to him.

“Come on, tell daddy what's wrong.”

“How are you more obnoxious than yesterday?” Derek questioned, but walked over to sit next to Stiles anyway.

“Writers high, I’m almost done with my chapters. Also, stop avoiding the question. What’s got you so riled up?.”

Derek groaned like a man in pain.

“My sister’s coming over to drag me to a family gathering.”

“Ok? I’m still not really seeing the need for all the theatrics here.”

“ It’s my niece's birthday. And it’s princess themed! Laura got costumes for everyone and she’s insisting that I wear some stupid Disney prince outfit.”

Stiles had been trying his best to not look overly amused at Derek’s pain but it was a lost cause. 

“Which one?” Stiles asked, struggling to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Are you even listening to me?!”

“What? I mean you'd make a pretty good Eric, but Phillip’s costume would totally clash with your skin tone.”

Derek looked at Stiles like he was regretting every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Stiles didn’t know what he had been expecting. He wasn’t the type to lovingly pat his friends on the back when they came to him with problems. Scott had always been better at that. They both looked up when someone knocked on Stiles’ door. Stiles smiled, seemed like he was pretty popular today.

“Do NOT open that door.” Derek commanded.

“Of course.” Stiles reassured, then immediately rushed over to do just that.

“Stiles!”

Laura Hale looked just like he remembered, if a bit older. She had the same striking features that seemed to run in the family, thick eyebrows and dark hair. That with the small inviting smile she had on her lips, made for a very pretty picture.

“Hi, uh I’m looking for Derek? My uncle Peter said he’d be here” she said a bit hesitantly.

“Of course of course, come right in.” Stiles said, moving aside to let her enter his apartment. Derek’s expression was murderous, Stiles was very happy to find. He walked to his kitchen to put the kettle on, this seemed like the kind of conversation you’d definitely want a cup of tea for.

“Would anyone like some tea?”

“Stiles.” Derek said

“No thank you.” Laura said.

He ignored Derek and started preparing the tea, giving the siblings the illusion of privacy. He could still hear everything well enough from where he was after all.

“I told you I can’t today.” Derek was still insisting, when Stiles returned with his mug. Most of the conversation preceding this had consisted of Laura trying to convince Derek to go to the party and Derek repeating slight variations of ‘I can’t’. Not exactly riveting stuff.

“ Yeah you keep saying, but you haven’t actually told me why. Emma's going to be so disappointed if you don't come.” 

Stiles went to reclaim his seat next to Derek, warmly returning the ‘I’m sorry about this smile’ Laura sent his way. He ignored the less polite look he got from Derek

“I have a date.”

“Fucking some girl you found on tinder is not a date.”

Woah! Stiles almost choked on his tea. She clearly wasn’t prepared to take any of Derek’s shit, Stiles thought shifting around in his seat. He took another, if a bit more hesitant, sip of his tea and hummed in appreciation. Rooibos was the best.

“ No Laura I have a date with him.”

When Stiles looked up from his mug they were both staring at him.

“Yes? Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“What? You don’t date men, you don’t date anyone. Are you really going on a date with my brother?” Laura asked preplexed.

I mean he’d asked but he’d gotten the impression that Derek was mostly just humoring him with his flirty responses. He looked over to Derek and gave him a questioning look.

“ Unless he’d rather have me go to the party-”

“No! I mean yes. Yes we have a date. A very gay and very awesome date.”

“Really? Where are you going?” Laura asked narrowing her eyes.

She was awfully pushy and invasive but with a brother like Derek, Stiles could kinda see why.

“Uh the Deputies are hosting a barbecue and my dads the sheriff so-”

“You’re the Stilinski kid?”

“In the flesh.” Stiles confirmed, doing a little ‘tada’ motion and smiling weakly.

“Laura stop interrogating him. You have your answers, so go.”

Laura sighed and gave her brother a long-suffering look.

“Fine. I have to go pick up the cake anyway. But don’t think you‘re getting out of the family dinner tomorrow. If you don’t come I’ll tell mom about Jennifer. And bring your boyfriend as well”

 

“Shit, okay okay I’ll be there. Just leave.” 

Stiles watched Laura saunter out of his apartment, a little impressed and yes- he was man enough to admit it- intimidated.

“Jesus Christ she’s a nightmare.” Derek exclaimed, collapsing into the cushions.

“You didn’t just say that to get out of the party right? You want to go on a date with me?”  
Stiles asked hopefully, resenting how loudly his heart was beating in his chest. 

Derek didn’t answer for the longest time- or at least what felt like the longest time. Stiles could feel his stomach drop as he realized how this conversation was probably going to pan out.

“It’s fine. Forget it I-’”

“Stiles.”

And then there was a warm hand sliding over his. Derek was looking as serious as Stiles had ever seen him.

“Stiles.”

He really need to stop saying his name like that. All gravelly and full. It wasn’t good for his heart.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t just say that. I want to go on a date with you.”

“Cool. That’s cool.”

He felt like pushing his luck, so he leaned in to place a quick peck on Derek’s lips.

Derek raised a single eyebrow in response.

“What?” 

Stiles could already feel the blood rushing to his face, He hoped to God that Derek didn’t notice.  
“Nothing.” Derek said in a quiet voice, looking at Stiles in a manner that made his insides wrap into a thousand knots. 

Stiles wanted to kiss him again, and because he hand the impulse control of a toddler, he did. Derek’s lips were soft, softer than he’d imagined (and he’d imagined a lot). He smelt like musk, and tasted like toothpaste. He pulled away and grinned. He probably looked dopey as all hell, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Derek was smiling too. Bunny teeth and all.

“So uh the barbecue’s at 5 and I need to finish up my chapters before we leave- and if you stay here I’m probably just going to jump you.” 

“I’m not really seeing a problem with that right now.” Derek said, smiling at Stiles in that cocky way he’d found incredibly annoying a few months ago (maybe because those smiles were never directed at him). 

He was radiant like this, Stiles thought, confident sexy in a way Stiles’ had never quite managed. He couldn’t believe his luck. Stiles snorted like the dork he was and tried to school his expression into something more becoming of a bestselling author. 

“I need to work dude.” 

“Mhmmm” 

Derek hummed, nosing at his neck. Jesus Christ.

“Come on dude, you’re killing me here.”

“Okay fine.” 

Derek pulled away, though his reluctance in doing so did all sorts of things to Stiles’ heart.

“I’ll be here at 4:30?”

“5.”

“I thought you said it started at 5?”

“Yeah and if we show up early my Dad’s just going to make me help him out. When I was in highschool I always spent theses things handing out hot dogs to some disproportionately sassy old ladies. My self-confidence has still not recovered let me tell you”

Derek rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“Okay Stiles. I’ll see you at 5.”


End file.
